Through the Fire
by starbuckx
Summary: Ginny reflects on the events of her third year, and her love for Harry.


**Story title: Through the fire **

**Part 1/1**

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned them, I really do. But I'm just a romantic a heart who happens to love HP. No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this. **

_Remember Cedric. _

Dumbledore's words resonate in my head, as a vague and indefinable ache starts taking me over, slowly at first, just grazing past my happy memories of the year: the good marks in Potions, the birthday present from Hermione, Harry's face from the Yule Ball, until it finally overwhelms me, the burden I have carried since my first year. Itseems to be heavier than ever.

I helped Voldemort to power.

_Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right, and what is easy, _he said, and unbidden, the memories of my first year came to me, taking me back to the moment when that choice had been presented to me.

And, how I had chosen to take the easy road.

The right thing to do would have been to tell someone what was happening, to get help. It would have involved putting the lives of other people before my own pathetic fears. But I didn't do that. I just stood there, and watched as more people got Petrified.

And I didn't do anything, didn't say anything.

Riddle controlled me, totally, completely, and thanks to me, he is still alive. He took a bit of my soul with him, and it made him stronger, more human. Maybe, it even allowed him to live for this long.

And, now, he is back, and with as much power as he ever had. He controlled me when he was a distant memory, hidden in a pathetic diary. What could he do with me now that he was in total control?

A solitary tear runs down my cheek and I catch it quickly, making sure no one sees it. It's bad enough having to deal with everyone knowing that I had something to do with him …with Tom …with Voldemort. I couldn't deal with people actually knowing how miserable and helpless I feel right now.

"Ginny, are you all right?" a high-pitched voice asks, and I turn around to face Kat, the fake smile I've perfected grazing my lips, as always.

"I'm fine, Kat," I whisper quietly, and she rolls her eyes at me and goes back to her book, not without giving me one last piece of advice.

"You have to get over that stupid crush of yours once and for all, Ginny dear. He's never going to look at you twice, and it's time you came around and realized there are other boys …that are interested."

I sigh, and put on my face of Harry-related misery. I should have known that if any of my roommates detected my somber mood, they would immediately attribute it to Harry. I've spent the best part of three years pining over him, so why not attribute it to him?

"I know Kat, I know," I reply, and when she continues to stare at me, I add, "it's just hard."

"I know it is, Ginny," she tells me, "But you'll manage it. Believe me."

I smile at Kat before turning back to the window, but the smile doesn't reach my eyes. It's hollow, empty. She doesn't really know how I feel, and I don't particularly care to explain it to her when I barely understand it myself.

Harry.

Just the thought of him is enough to bring a smile to my face, a real one. It's amazing how love turns you into a blundering, smiling idiot. And what I feel for Harry is most definitely love.

How it evolved from hero-worship to real love I'll never know. One second, I loved Harry Potter, the Boy who lived, and the next one I loved Harry, the brave boy with the sparkling green eyes who saved me from my darkest nightmare. The real Harry.

And that Harry isn't perfect. He's a bit shy at times, his hair stands up in odd angles, and he is awful at Divination. But he's also brave, and loyal, and friendly …and perfect …for me.

And, right now, he is probably suffering.

_Cedric's death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not_, Dumbledore said, and in that respect he was right. And if Cedric's death has brought back every dark memory and every hidden fear I have, then I don't even dare to imagine the depths of Harry's despair right now.

A rustling noise makes me focus on something other than the window, and I listen intently as more noises, and then a scream reach my ears from the hallway and before I know it, Harry and Ron are standing in the middle of the compartment, breathing heavily.

"Harry? Ron?" I ask loudly. "What's going on? What are you two doing here?"

Without turning around, Harry mutters just one word. "Malfoy."

"Ah," is all I have to say. Just like Malfoy, to try to rub salt on an open wound. He would probably do it to anyone, but the fact that it's not just anyone, it's Harry, probably makes it even more amusing for him.

"You can stay here for a while, if you want," I mutter, my eyes focused on Ron, but the words directed at Harry. When I finally find the courage to look at Harry, I am surprised to see him staring at me, a bemused expression on his face, and for a moment, I let myself hope that he gets it …everything, how I feel, what I meant. Everything.

But the smile is gone as soon as it appeared, and I am left wondering if I imagined it, as his eyes focus on the door once again.

"You think we ought to go outside?" Ron asks after a couple of minutes of complete silence. "Hermione must be looking for us."

Harry makes an affirmative noise, his face set, and Ron nods briefly at me, before heading out into the hallway. One more step, and Harry will be out of my sight, and I will have lost my one chance to speak to him, remaining forever silent about the only thing I really want to say.

I take a deep breath, and act like a Gryffindor.

"Harry," I call back to him, my voice small and uncertain and when he turns around his green eyes pierce into my soul. My own brown eyes stare at him, and I find myself unable to talk.

"Yes, Ginny?" he asks, his voice guarded.

"Everything will be all right." It's all I manage and as soon as the words are out of my mouth I want to hide my head in the corner and never come out. That's like the worst thing to say to him right now, my mind tells me, and it's probably true. But Harry surprises me once again, because his eyes focus on the world outside the window, and he looks briefly at me, before smiling lightly.

"Yes, I think it will," he says, and I can't help but agree. Oh, things won't be easy, especially with Voldemort back. But we have something on our side that Voldemort will never even understand. Love. Friendship. Trust. And, with that, we'll defeat him.

_**The End**_

****

_Author Notes: For a small fic, this one was a hard one to write. And lately, everything has been hard to write for me. So this is my **get over it** fic, I hope. This one is for PW, for the idea, for the encouragement, and for everything else. Thank you!_

_A thousand hugs to Anne, as well, because I am sure she must have had a seizure when she saw something new from me in her mailbox. To Carrie, because she is …Carrie. To Kat, for letting me use her. And, as always, to my cyber-sisters._


End file.
